


In Praise of Doughnuts

by Lillyjk



Category: Without a Trace
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-06-07
Updated: 2005-06-07
Packaged: 2017-10-10 22:03:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/104803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lillyjk/pseuds/Lillyjk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short little PWP with pretty FBI boys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Praise of Doughnuts

  
My contribution to [](http://nekomuse.livejournal.com/profile)[**nekomuse**](http://nekomuse.livejournal.com/)'s International Blow Job Week - to be celebrated by blowjob porn

This is Without A Trace slash fic featuring Danny/Martin, not necessary to be familiar with the show as this is basically PWP

Enjoy  


The sweat was running off him like water. His ratty t-shirt and shorts were soaked. It was barely 7:00 am, and the heat was already rising off the pavement in waves. His breathing was ragged, his lungs ready to burst, the result of pushing too hard for the last mile sprint to his apartment. He glanced down at his watch, a satisfied smile appearing briefly as he realized he had cut nearly a minute off his usual run time.

He slowed to a jog as his building came into view, using the last block to cool down. He wiped the sweat out of his eyes as he pushed through the lobby. Then he took the stairs two at a time, digging his key out of a pocket as he went.

He burst through to the landing, and nearly went sprawling when he saw Danny leaning against the wall outside his apartment. The other man was immaculately dressed as always, every dark hair in place, crisp shirt and tie under an expensive dark suit.

Martin skidded to a halt beside him, trying to catch his breath. His pulse was racing again, but this time it had nothing to do with his run. It had been almost a month since they'd slept together, both so glad to be alive that it had seemed logical. Hell, more than logical, necessary. Two men, work partners, finally crossing the boundary they'd been dancing around for three years.

"Hey there, Fitzie." Danny smirked, his eyes slowly scanning Martin from head to toe. "I tried to call on my way, but didn't get an answer. I figured you were out there pounding the pavement."

"Is something wrong?" Martin was intensely aware of what he must look like to Danny, all sweaty and red-faced. Nothing had happened between them since that night, nothing said, an unspoken agreement to chalk it up as a one time thing.

"Nah, but I got a lead on the Jensen case." Danny pushed away from the wall. "Thought we'd get an early start, head out from here." He rattled the small white paper bag in his hand, "I brought breakfast."

"Yeah, sure." Martin unlocked the door, pushing it open and motioning for Danny to go on in. "Just give me a few minutes to shower and change." He watched Danny move ahead of him, the other man so lean and graceful that Martin felt even more inadequate than usual. Jesus, Danny even walked like he was having sex, hips swaying just a little bit more than needed.

Danny stripped off his suit jacket and sank down on the couch, "You got any coffee?" His eyes followed Martin into the kitchen.

Martin remembered the last time Danny had been on that couch. Sprawled over the back, dark skin shiny with sweat as Martin sank into him. Beautiful ass arching up to meet him, Danny's hands digging into the heavy fabric along the couch back when Martin came inside him.

"I'll put some on." It took longer than it should for him to measure the coffee out and get the pot going, the adrenaline from his run mixing with all those other feelings – those Danny feelings. He'd been able to deal with it, to keep it cool at work. But this, this was different. Danny was back in his apartment, back on his territory for the first time since they'd been together.

"So, the Jensen kid, turns out that her boyfriend has some ties with Chuck Smelser." The words made Martin jump. Danny was at the kitchen door, leaning casually against the doorjamb.

"The identity theft guy? He's been all over the papers this week." Martin grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge and downed half of it in a couple of gulps. "Coffee will be a few minutes."

"Yeah, that story broke the same day that Jensen went missing." Danny stepped further into the kitchen, holding the paper bag out to Martin. "Have one."

Martin reached into the bag and snagged a raspberry filled pastry. "This will probably cancel out the effects of my run." He held the doughnut gingerly, as if debating whether or not he should eat it.

Danny smiled again, reaching in and grabbing a doughnut for himself before laying the bag aside. "It won't bite you, you know. You should live a little." He bit into his own doughnut, eyes closing briefly as he savored the taste.

Martin couldn't look away, his eyes locked on the movements of Danny's mouth as he chewed, the full bottom lip shiny with glaze. He stood there, silently watching as Danny polished off the treat, his own breakfast forgotten, his cock going hard.

Danny popped the last bite into his mouth, "Breakfast of champions, sugar and grease." He slid his fingers to his lips, tongue flicking out to lick away the residue.

Martin swallowed, his mouth going dry at the other man's movements. His erection was pressing against the thin cotton of his shorts. All Danny had to do was glance down and he'd see it.

"You gonna eat that?" Danny moved closer, eyeing the doughnut in Martin's hand. "I should have got more, one's never enough for me."

Martin shook his head, unable to speak. Danny was close enough that he could smell his cologne, could feel the heat of his body.

Danny reached out, his hand locking around Martin's wrist, the other man's blue eyes going wide as he drew Martin's hand to his mouth. "So, you don't mind if I have yours?" His own dark eyes were heavy, his voice going low.

The grip on his wrist was firm, Danny's fingers rubbing along the skin, eyes meeting Martin's as he took a bite out of the doughnut. Then his mouth, slick with raspberry filling, was on Martin's. Teeth biting at his lower lip, tongue sliding inside his mouth, taste of sugar and Danny mingling.

Martin moaned, doughnut forgotten as he reached for the other man, sliding his fingers into the dark hair and pulling him even closer. His own mouth returned the kiss, a month, no years, of pent-up frustration spilling out of him in waves. Danny pressed into him, pressed him back against the kitchen counter, until it felt like every inch of his body was pressed into every inch of Danny.

Then Danny's hands were on his bare skin, pushing his shirt up, hands roaming over his back. Fingers sliding over sweat-slicked skin, moving lower to push his shorts down past his hips. His own hands were clumsy, tugging at the starched white shirt. He gasped when Danny's lips left his own, moving down to press against his throat. The sensations were too much, mouth against his neck, tongue flicking out to lick the sweat off his skin, warm hands cupping his bare ass.

His erection brushed against Danny's, the thin pants no barrier. Somewhere in the back of his mind knowing that his precome was staining the other man's suit. Danny was talking, murmuring against his neck, kisses punctuated with nips and bites. He picked up bits and pieces of it, "run" and "hot" and "taste" but Martin's mind couldn't put the words together.

Danny's hand wrapped around his cock, sliding from the tip to the base, fingers brushing the heavy weight of his balls. He sank to his knees in front of Martin, dark eyes meeting his own as his tongue flicked out to brush the head. So pretty, Martin thought, and then his mind stopped working as Danny's mouth closed over his cock.

Martin was the one making noises now, not words but sounds of pleasure, moans and grunts and gasps as Danny worked him. World narrowed down to the heat and wetness of Danny's mouth, the slight scrape of teeth followed by slide of tongue. One hand pumping him, moving in time with his mouth, other hand making circles on his ass, finger teasing his opening.

His own hands were back in Danny's hair, fingers burrowing through the dark mass, sliding along the scalp, fighting the urge to lock down and take over. Fighting the urge to fuck Danny's pretty face. His hips were bucking, tongue and lips and hand too much, dick leaking come, blood rushing to pool at his crotch, nerves on fire. And then it was over, Danny's fingers sliding inside him, brushing just the right spot, mouth taking it all in as Martin came.

Seconds later, knees going weak, trying to steady himself but sinking to the floor beside Danny instead. He opened his mouth, not sure what to say, and was spared speaking when Danny's lips brushed against his.

Danny murmuring against his cheek. "Don't spoil it Martin." And another kiss, the taste of himself and the taste of doughnuts better than any words.

  



End file.
